


Necessary Evils

by deathandchocolate



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I took a lot of liberties, Idiots in Love, M/M, Off-screen torture, Romance, Spies & Secret Agents, kind of James Bond-esque, nothing graphic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 03:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11222391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathandchocolate/pseuds/deathandchocolate
Summary: Vincent Khan has done and seen terrible things in his career.  As an international secret agent, it is kind of to be expected.  However, his most recent mission might be the most trying one yet.  This time, the consequences of failure are far greater than anything he has ever faced before...





	Necessary Evils

A man strode over the filthy cobblestones of an even filthier back alley, one of many that wound through London’s slums.  The glass crunching under his heavy boots alerted the scrawny alley cats to his presence.  They gazed at him, unblinking, with wide yellow eyes.  The man continued, single-minded, wraithlike, with a deadly grace and a nearly feral gleam in his dark eyes.  The cats went about their business, as if acknowledging a fellow predator.  

If one was judging by looks alone, the man would seem terribly out of place in the grungy alleyway.  His flawless dark skin, knife-sharp cheekbones, and artfully tousled jet-black hair gave him the appearance of a model, and the confidence with which he carried himself only added to that image.  Any tailor worth their salt would cry in awe at the incredibly expensive, perfectly tailored black suit he was wearing.

Beside that, the Smith & Wesson 1911 in his shoulder holster and the numerous knives and assorted weapons hidden on his person tended to set him apart from your average bum.

The nearly imperceptible swishing of expensive fabric was the only sound as the man travelled purposefully through the convoluted twists and turns of London’s seedy underbelly.  However, the man’s calculated calm, though convincing, was a paper-thin veneer, disguising the burning fury and fearful distress roiling just beneath his skin.  

It wasn’t the danger that was getting to him, nor the fact that in about fifteen minutes he would be fighting for his life against several bloodthirsty thugs.  No, that was all perfectly normal for Vincent Khan.  After all, blood and danger were basically the name of the game for one of the Queen’s secret agents.  This, mission, though…this was different.  He had been trying not to dwell on it, but it seemed like his brain couldn’t stop playing the past few hours on a constant loop.

* * *

Vince had been sitting - well,  _ slouching _ , to be more exact, because he would do anything to keep up his ‘cool and casual’ persona - in the office of the director of the Secret Intelligence Service.  Carmen Villera was arguably the most powerful person in England, and one of certainly one of the most powerful people in the world.  Vince simply knew her as his boss.  

“What can I do for you today, ma’am?”  Vincent winked salaciously.  Director Villera rolled her eyes.  She had known Vince for years; she had been the one to recruit him for the SIS, and by doing so had essentially rescued him and his sister Michelle from a dismal life of pain and poverty.  She was even something of a maternal figure for Vince, despite the fact that she would never admit it even under torture.  But Vince knew.  After all, every Christmas she brought them tamales that her _abuela_ made.  If that wasn’t love, Vince didn’t know what was.

And so because she loved him, she tolerated his antics instead of firing him or making him disappear to some obscure and isolated frozen wasteland where no one would ever find him and there certainly wouldn’t be any tamales.  Vince shuddered at the thought.  Yes, she could absolutely do that.  But she wouldn’t.  Because she wouldn’t be so heartless to deprive him of tamales.

“Agent Khan, are you listening to me?” 

Vince snapped to attention.  “Er...yes?”

Director Villera raised an imperious eyebrow and shot him a disapproving look, but the sparkle in her eyes belied her amusement.  “As I was saying, you have a mission.”

Vincent affected a wounded look.  “Aw, Director, you didn’t call me in here because you enjoy my beautiful face and wonderful company?”

Director Villera’s face was about as expressive as a brick wall.  

Vince winced.  “Oookay, I guess not.  All right, lay it on me.”

Any lingering traces of levity vanished from the director’s countenance.  “We have…a situation here in London.”

Vince raised an eyebrow.  “I’m know you’re a little young to be forgetting things, Director, but I’m an international agent.  I don’t do missions in England.”

Her mouth tightened.  “I am aware, Agent Khan.  However, this is something of a special case.  One of our own has fallen upon a bit of trouble.”

Vince shrugged.  “You could send out a team to help out, but I know all the other agents.  They’ve been trained by England’s finest, and if that’s not enough, they’re tough.  I’m sure whoever it is will be fine without my help.”

Director Villera removed her glasses and massaged the bridge of her nose wearily.  “That’s the problem.  It’s not an agent.”

Vince stilled, growing serious.  “What do you mean?  Who is it?  Why would they-”

“There has been a terrorist group trying to take down the SIS for years now.  We have always had our eye on them.  Previously they have not been seen as a threat, but recently they have been increasingly active.  Now we have reason to suspect that one of their agents has infiltrated the SIS.”

The agent’s eyes widened with shock.  “What?  How is that possible?  Why didn’t I know about this sooner?!”

“I have been trying to keep it quiet.  I don’t want to alert the spy to the fact that we know one of us is a traitor.  This is why I need you; I need someone I can trust beyond doubt.”

Vince was torn between pride and alarm.  “I appreciate that, Director.  I will do everything in my power to find this spy.  Now,” he squared his shoulders, “what is my mission?”

Villera still looked worn out, but she managed a small smile before her professional facade returned.  “One of our techies has been kidnapped.  We believe it because they believe he has valuable information that would give them a significant advantage in their mission to take us down.”

“This might sound harsh, but what’s so important about this mark?  If he’s just a techie he’s not important enough to send me in to retrieve him.  What’s the big deal?”

She met his gaze sternly.  “The ‘big deal’ is that he is not  _ just  _ a techie and he  _ does  _ have valuable information that would give them a significant advantage in their mission to take us down.  That is, should they be able to extract this information from him.   _ That,  _ Agent Khan, is why I am sending my best man for this job.”

Vince would definitely preen about this later, and probably recount the entire experience to his sister in great detail.  At the moment his insatiable curiosity and his upcoming mission were at the forefront of his mind.

“So, you’re killing me, Director.  Who is it that is so important to the SIS that I’m being sent in after them?”

“The director of the Research and Development branch.  Reed Parsons.”

The floor seemed to drop out from under Vince’s feet.   _ Reed Parsons.   _ Out of all the people…He managed to maintain his neutral expression.  “How long has he been gone?”

“Three days.  He supposedly called in sick, but this morning his subordinates grew suspicions and sent someone to his flat.  Parsons was gone, and there was evidence of a struggle.”

Vince paled further.   _ How in the  _ world  _ had he not known this?  Three  _ days?!  “Where is he?”  

The director rattled off an address that Vince knew he would remember despite the feeling that he was wrapped in a thick haze of shock.  He was a professional; he had worked in worse conditions, and he was his best under pressure.

He only hoped his best would be enough.  Now, much more was at stake than just his life.

* * *

Vince shook his head to clear it.  He couldn’t afford to think about that right now.  He had a job to do and a life to save.

The address Villera had given him led him to what looked like an abandoned warehouse.  Broken windows, rusted locks, a thick layer of dust covering everything.  A foreboding scene that Vince had seen at least a million times before.

Vince rolled his eyes.  Typical.  Of course they had no sense of style.  

He made  his way to the back of the building.  The locks were all so hopelessly old that it was simple to break the lock off the back door without making too much noise.  The main room of the warehouse looked relatively empty, but Vince knew from experience that it was never wise to let his guard down.  

He kept his gun pointed in front of him and stuck close to the wall as he crept through to a door to a connecting building.  The window was too grimy to see through, so Vince resigned himself to go in blind, most likely with guns blazing.  

He kicked open the door.  Shocked faces stared back at him.  A few of the men began to scramble for their weapons, but with a few quick bursts from Vince’s gun they stopped moving permanently.  The other three, who had been playing poker, sat frozen in terror.  

“Where is he?”  Vince snarled.  Rage coursed through his veins like molten lava.  The men simply sat there, petrified.   _ “Where is he?!   _ If you value your lives, you will tell me right now!”

One of the men pointed shakily toward another door.  Vince quickly dispatched him with a blow to the head and he sank to the floor, unconscious.  He might be useful later; Vince left him alive to be turned over to interrogation.  The other two were shown no similar mercy.  

Before the bodies had even hit the ground Vince was sprinting toward the door.  He wrenched it open, hoping beyond hope that he wasn’t too late.  

The room beyond was just as dark and filthy as the rest of the house.  There was nothing inside but a single chair, and sitting in the chair was… 

_ “Oh god, no.” _

The man had been thoroughly bound to the chair, and the skin the rope touched was raw and bleeding, as if he had been struggling hard.  Countless cuts, burns, and bruises marred the unnaturally pale skin. The man was slumped limply in his seat, apparently unconscious.  It was unmistakably Reed Parsons. 

Vince staggered in horror before his instincts took over and he sprang into action. He easily sliced the ropes holding Reed in place and eased him to the floor. 

“Easy, easy, here we go.  It's all right, you're safe now. I've got you.  You're…”

Reed wasn't moving.  With a terrible sinking feeling in his chest, Vince pressed a shaking hand over Reed’s heart and waited in horrible suspense. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

_ Nothing.  _  No heartbeat, no breath passed Reed’s cracked and bloody lips. 

“Oh, god.  Oh god, no, not him, please not him.  Oh god what did he do to deserve this, please, please, not him, _I love him,_ I'm so sorry, Reed, I'm so so sorry, this is all my fault!”  Vince was choking on his sobs, tears streaming down his face.  His grief was raw and terrible, tearing him apart, but he didn't care. His world had narrowed down the corpse in his arms.  He cradled the cold, still body and desolately ran his fingers through the dull blond hair in a sick imitation of intimacy.  “I should have gotten here sooner, I shouldn't have let them take you at all, I should have _protected_ you!  And now… _god Reed I'm so fucking s-sorry, I love you, please don't leave me alone_ _\- ”_

“V…Vince?”

Reed’s voice was weak and hoarse from screaming and disuse, but Vince thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He gasped in delight before clutching his lover even closer and burying his nose in Reed’s hair.  He drew back to frame Reed's face with his large hands and examine his tired but wide-open eyes, gently stroking the lightly freckled cheeks with his thumbs.  He pressed an intense but gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s chapped lips and almost wept again at the thought that this kiss wouldn't be their last.  

“Hi…”  Reed broke off abruptly as a coughing fit came over him.  Vince immediately shushed him, rocking him gently in his lap.  

“Hush, love, don’t exert yourself.  We’re going to get you back home, okay?  I’m taking you home, I promise.  But first we need to get you to a hospital….”

Reed had passed out again.  Vince looked down at him with a wobbly smile, still trying not to cry.  He was grateful beyond words that Reed was safe, but it still hurt his heart to see his beautiful, strong boyfriend so weak.  Not to mention the innumerable injuries Reed had suffered.  Vince brushed Reed's bruised face with shaky fingers one last time before picking him up and beginning the long journey back home.

* * *

Vince remained by his boyfriend’s side until he woke up twelve hours later in the hospital.  The first thing Reed did was ensure that Vince was unharmed.  After being assured that, yes, Vince didn't even have a scratch, Reed innocently requested a kiss.  Vince couldn't find it in himself to deny the request.  Never mind the fact that he had been aching to touch Reed ever since they arrived at the hospital but been beaten off by the nurses every time he tried. 

The kiss was long and sweet, both men grounding themselves in their partner’s presence.  When they finally parted Vince rested their foreheads together and closed his eyes.  Reed tenderly brushed the tears from his cheeks. “Shhhh, dearest, don’t cry.  Hush, darling.  Everything will be all right.”  

Reed’s soft voice was a balm on Vince’s frayed nerves, but he still cringed a little bit.  Great, now Reed was comforting  _ him,  _ as if Reed hadn’t just been kidnapped and tortured for three days.  “I’m so sorry.  I should have been there, should have prevented all of this from happening - ”

He was cut off by a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look down at the man in front of him.  Reed’s words were gentle, but his green eyes were stern.  “No.  You can’t say that, Vincent.  None of this was your fault.  Our work is dangerous and there are risks that we choose to take for the good of our country and the world.  This is something that we have always known was a possibility, and it's no one's fault. Certainly not yours.”

Reed held out his arms and Vince sighed and climbed into the hospital bed with his boyfriend, who immediately wrapped him up tightly.  Vince wasn't fully convinced, but he was content for the moment, basking in the presence of the man he loved.  Reed pressed a kiss to his dark hair.  “It's okay, love.  I'm okay.  We're going to be just fine.”  

“Yeah.  We're going to be okay.”

Reed pulled him into another kiss.  “I love you so much.  I could never ask for a better boyfriend.  We're going to get through this together, right?”

Vince sniffed wetly and smiled.  “Yeah, we are.  I love you too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little thing I wrote for a friend of mine about his OCs. I just thought they were so cute and delightful that I couldn't help myself! It's not super long but I had fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading it. :)
> 
> If the spirit moves you, come hang out with me on Tumblr @kiszmet !!


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